


Beautiful Sadness

by Joshatron



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Gen, Mild Spoilers I guess?, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9950429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joshatron/pseuds/Joshatron
Summary: The group had gone their separate ways; Ignis and Gladiolus staying behind to take out straggling daemons, leaving Noctis and Prompto to fight the Infernian alone.What if the fight against Ifrit had gone differently?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this to tumblr 20/08/16 on my Noctis RP blog and finally decided to post it here now that I have an Ao3 account. It was inspired by http://mega-shipperzaxfair.tumblr.com/post/149132949413/beautiful-sadness and I was given permission by the artist to write the fanfic.
> 
> http://nightprincenoctis.tumblr.com/post/149207705307/beautiful-sadness  
> Here's the post on tumblr if you would like to read it there or drop a like or reblog.
> 
> You can take this as friendship or romantic relationship.

The bright, unforgiving flames licked at his heels and made to climb up his legs like excited dogs to their owner as he made his way through the debris. ‘Where did he go?’ He covered his mouth with his arm to stop himself from inhaling any more smoke, although unable to stop the burning in his eyes from ashes and dust particles. The other two were safe for now.

It wasn’t like he could get on the ground and crawl anymore. His young, springy legs were now stiff and old. Innocence and youth were long gone; such was the price of his power.

“Prompto!” The king removed his arm from his mouth and called out hoarsely, smoke scratching the inside of his throat like rusty nails. His head was pounding. A hand moved up to press against the source of the pain only to meet slick, warm liquid. That was just great. And suddenly he was hearing things, such as his own name. What a cruel trick fate was playing.

But there it was again; a little louder and very much unexpected. He was still alive! Gathering his strength, the king forced himself to move on; to follow the voice. He called out again and waited for a response.

“-ctis…!”

Spinning around, he continued towards the voice. Despite being so close, it sounded strained and weak; almost as if he- No. He wasn’t going to think about that. His friend was still alive and he was going to save him if it was the last thing he did, dammit!

Further navigating through the remains of his palace, Noctis finally stumbled upon a body clad in a uniform surrounded by a sickeningly large crimson pool. He rushed towards it, turning it on its back and holding it in his arms. It was him. Beautiful blond hair (now matted with blood) and that stupid little goatee on his chin. Why did it have to be him? **WHY DID _HE_ HAVE TO DIE?!**

He wiped the blood from the freckled nose, smearing it, as well as the blood from his mouth. He blamed himself. They… they weren’t ready yet. He should have listened.

“I’m sorry, Prom…” The words were barely above a whisper and couldn’t convey how he felt. Tired eyes travelled down the bloodied form, stopping at the sight of a large gash in the abdomen. Without thinking, he placed a hand against it, causing a small hissing sound to reach his ears and his head immediately snapping towards the source, only to see his friend’s face contorted in pain.

“The hell, man…?” Prompto asked weakly, almost as if he was unaware of what had happened.

“You’re alive… Oh thank the goddess, you’re alive…” As much as Noctis wanted to cup the other’s face, he resisted and continued to apply pressure to the wound. He was so happy to see he was alive. They would have to get out soon, however, as the scalding flames drew nearer and threatened to engulf them both.

Looking down at himself, Prompto almost laughed. Why was he laughing? The king felt a gloved hand on top of his own and another at his face after having moved his now grey hair.

“Never thought it’d end like this.”

Why was he saying that? He was going to be fine and they were going to get out of there. They were going to live. But first, Noctis needed to stop the bleeding and fast.

“You never _did_ ban exams, did you? That could be… your first royal decree as king… y'know…”

‘Shut up, Prompto.’ Didn’t he realise he needed to save his energy?! Talking was only going to use it all up! Noctis tried to apply more pressure to the wound in an effort to buy more time. Only… they had little time. And the stupid blond bastard was only wasting what little extra time he had.

“Noct.”

He locked his gaze with Prompto’s, realising that he had been glaring while lost in thought. The roaring of the flames seemed to have quietened in that moment, almost becoming silent after the words that came next.

“I want to repay you… for giving me a good life…”

Was there ever a moment Noctis wished he could keep up his cool air. Prompto wamted to repay him? Why? He didn’t need to. They had given each other the opportunity to grow and open up. Besides, how was Prompto even going to repay him while in his current situation?

The king found himself unable to resist being pulled towards his friend. He was curious. How would he be repaid? He wasn’t left hanging for long when the fingers covering the wound were gripped and bloodied lips lightly touched the corner of his mouth, leaving a small smear of blood. Oh. Oh no.

“You are _not_ turning this into a “kill your gays” trope, Prompto Argentum,“ he lectured sternly, though not without a small hint of humour. His small lecture earned him a small, weak laugh.

“Who said that wasn’t a friendly kiss?” The lack of volume to the voice worried Noctis to no end. He couldn’t die yet. He wouldn’t allow it. Their friends were waiting for them! He had to live.

“Don’t you dare die on me. Promise me you won’t die!” And for the first time in ages, Noctis teared up. He couldn’t go through this again. First his mom when he was a child, then his dad a few years ago and now _Prompto_?! He didn’t want to say goodbye. Not yet at least.

“Sorry, buddy. Can’t make that promise…”

The grip on his fingers loosened as the hand on his cheek fell to the ground, into the dark pool of blood. He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye anyway. But that _stupid_ idiot and his _stupid_ smile. Prompto might have been ready to go but Noctis wasn’t ready at all. They still had so much to do together.

But now his best friend was gone and he felt numb, almost as if someone had given him an emotional anaesthetic. His bright blue eyes had lost their light and became a full grey. Ever so gently, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss against Prompto’s eyelids.

Holding the lifeless body tightly to his form, Noctis rocked back and forth while contemplating what to do next. He no longer cared for the roaring laughter of flames. They could never hurt him as much as he was already. They could scar him, but those same scars could be healed with potions and healing spells.

Prompto deserved the best. He was going to have a funeral and be dressed in his favourite outfit. He was going to be buried with his favourite flowers and have the prettiest flowers on his grave and his friends would weep for him. Weep for the life that was stolen from him. The life he never got to live.

He moved his arm so he could support his friend from under his legs and carry him to the others. Clear liquid collected at the lonely king’s chin and fell next to the gaping wound on the other’s stomach. Noctis only hoped that time could heal the gaping wound in his heart.


End file.
